No amount of love, patience, kindness, or self-sacrifice matters. Yes, "beating a dead horse" is an apt description. And, "Do not cast your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and then turn and tear you to pieces. My husband suddenly left to escape couples counseling and we were living separately for a year in a financially unsustainable way of his own making.
I had lawyers draw up a proposed divorce settlement. He didn't want a divorce so would not cooperate or discuss, but the financial and child situation did not allow me to leave without some reasonable cooperation from him. So we moved back in together. I tried to live as a self-sufficient, silent roommate but became depressed. Eventually, a year later, I broke down and told him I was not sure I could survive living together, that it is really not healthy for me to live with the lack of interaction, so much so that I often felt like I wish I could die, and that it had been really hard on me since he moved back in.
He, meanwhile, had seemed perfectly happy and clueless the whole time. I told him I had been to a therapist, but her advice was to divorce. His only response was to say, "Holy bananas. So I said, "Well, I've been talking about that for decades now and I don't think this conversation is more likely than any of the others to accomplish good rather than harm, so I'm going out. He came to the car and said, "I have to ask you something. Do you have an actual plan to commit suicide or just a death wish? That was 3 months ago and there have been zero further words or changes on that or any other personal topic.
He thinks he loves me and that he is a pretty decent husband. We've been married almost 30 years. Because of family and finances, I cannot divorce at this point I've tried a couple times and probably not ever, but have thoroughly detached emotionally. We discuss any practical chores or arrangements by email while he is at work, and he cheerfully offers a sentence or two of bizarre news headlines while eating with the family in the evening.
If someone tries to make conversation by asking him questions about the headline, he has no further information but will not admit that he has no actual idea what he is talking about. That is our entire personal interaction. Believe me, I have put in all the love and effort possible over the years, but the truth is, once I gave up, he became happier than ever. He doesn't want a wife who talks or feels, reaches out, offers kind words or ideas.
I'd realized long ago he wasn't into conversation or partnership, but he's actually chipper and helpful if I completely ignore him. I have to not even say "hello," "goodnight," or "thank you" and share nothing of my thoughts or feelings, ever, for him to seem relaxed and for me to not be constantly hurting.
He used to be amazingly passive aggressive, but now that I ignore the hell out of him he is more helpful. He still won't keep track of, plan, or remember anything, but he will do household projects that he wants to do with unfailing patience. I have to stay completely out of it and offer no advice, praise, or thanks or he goes passive aggressive again and delays or bungles the project. It's very hard to have friends of my own. It sometimes heals but often breaks my heart to have good times with others.
It takes a lot of energy to switch back and forth from husband interactions to loving, talkative people interactions. To receive caring from others makes it harder for me to live in peace at home and not feel sorry for myself. When I tried to divorce, my best friends knew, but one just kept trying to analyze and help my husband, the other is frustrated that I didn't end up leaving, so my best relationships became strained. I hate all the advice to get emotional sustenance from others. My husband gets jealous if I have close relationships with others which adds additional difficulty.
Not many married people socialize with just one of a married couple and I don't want to go anywhere with him. It's a hard row to hoe. They are charming outside the home, but change when they are inside home. Your spouse obviously believes he's really charming, which is an insult to you, his spouse, who sees his real behaviour.
He just said, if he was like what he is at home, outside, no-one would talk to him. Then he said he's his real self outside. What do I make of this? Because we grew up in two different countries, speaking different languages, I initially blamed our painful communication issues on cultural differences. Bob and I shared the same career interests. Bob presented himself at being VERY successful in this field. I also did not know that Bob did not make ANY money. After this, fast forward into the future, he had such a bad meltdown that he kicked me in the stomach.
We had a TON of communication problems. My feelings were hurt when he spent all his time on the phone speaking with mutual friends, but never had the time or energy to speak with me. Also, he ignored my texts. What hurt me the most was how he ignored me on holidays. After educating myself on autism, I learnt that my birthday was probably not important to him, so I went out of my way in advance to explain that I needed him to wish me a happy birthday. He never wished me a happy birthday. Over time, Bob seemed more and more narcissistic to me. I got therapy for being abused by a narcissist and never blamed autism on his bad behavior.
Bob and I had an intimate passionate relationship at first, but over time, he was not interested in me in the bedroom…instead wanted to watch soft porn television shows in bed together. The few times we had sex, he gave me a sexually transmitted disease STD. I did not know what was wrong and went to the doctor. When I asked why he did not get treatment for it, he ignored me. He did not like being with me alone unless an activity related to his special interest was involved. Bob thought we should speak with his father, who he did not like, to see if his father had ideas about how our relationship could be saved.
After getting to know Bob, I grew disgusted with him his lack of taking care of his health, his poor hygiene and how he used other people and me for money and wanted to run for the hills. I thought it would be ethical to meet with him in person and explain to him my reasons for ending the relationship. It was like speaking to a wall. After I tried to have an amicable breakup, Bob viciously stalked me. People are all different. Some bad and some good. The way the current media tells it, all autistic people are innocent and good. By default autistic people are narcissist, so if you want attention and to be respected be sure that the autistic person you are involved with works in a system in which both of your needs are always reciprocated.
How anyone can expect to have a warm, close, loving, sharing adult, intimate relationship with someone who is child-like, cold, unemotional except for their need to use controlling anger, fear and worry: now called anxiety and depression by the expert buffoons and totally self-centred beats me. In response to Lottie's comment about "a lot of you guys coming across as really, really ableist", I would point out something that is painfully obvious to most of the individuals contributing to this site.
It is not our intent to discriminate against those with disabilities. If someone cannot walk well, we help them cross the street. If someone has an intellectual disability, we find ways for them to learn. But those with Asperger syndrome often and willfully masquerade as "normal" people, realizing full well that they have a disability that prevents them from understanding the rules of neurotypicals, and they compensate for this by learning to "act" normal…………Their disability is first known only to themselves, and it is cleverly disguised, until we find out too late and become entangled with it.
In effect, we are victimized by a clever, premeditated, and dishonest ruse in many cases. We become unsuspecting victims of an intelligent and manipulative person who is an actor, and then when he or she gets what they want, the mask drops and we are caught in a marriage or serious relationship with someone who fooled us all along, and whose disability is largely incompatible with a normal, reciprocal relationship.
It is further compounded by experts and autism advocates who would have us continue to enable the person with ASD as a pretence to improving marriage. Thank you to both Lottie and David for their pertinent comments. Hello, I just wanted to add my 2 cents to what "Estelle" wrote on 9th May She wrote: "He is mysterious about what he is working on, playing an over-busy person, though not hired anywhere and without any firm of his own.
I notice that he is masculine but effeminate He had not been hired anywhere before he joined our company just a few odd jobs here and there , yet he portrayed himself as a successful person and still does! He doesn't even have an area specialisation in his field of work which is very uncommon in our business. He also has a very effeminate side At the same point he seems to be kind of asexual and clueless about all things sexual. I also wanted to say that Estelle seems to be a very kind and considerate woman like all the people who wrote testimonials. She derserves SO much better that the guy she is with now.
Her gut feelings are screaming loud and clear: "Run! This is bad for you! Kind regards! Narcissism is part of the behaviours of people with autism. It is not a separate mental illness. I am with an Asperger too. Fantastic connection to start with for few months, very attentive and motivated, but always late without excuses. My first irritation about it seem to have ended his "high" love rush, I got a 2 weeks silent treat Tok it up again, tried to understand how remarks can be taken so hardly on this side.
Then, impossible to plan anything, he would dump me last minute on week-ends, probably having found something more interesting to do on his own eyes. I ended up being alone at last minute with limited possibilities to be then joined by friends. He is always justifying his absences with strange stories stranger and stranger, in fact, much to doubt about. He is mysterious about what he is working on, playing an over-busy person, though not hired anywhere and without any firm of his own.
I notice that he is masculine but effeminate, very concerned by his look, very sporty and top shape is important to him. He is walking - I should say running, he runs all the time, always late- with his arms in strange positions. He has an high IQ, very busy studying some subjects as an expert to impress people around. He is collecting systematically papers everywhere we go, concert, galleries, monuments, etc I am not allowed to go to his place, it is always at mine it is not nice enough, he says, he has many things He is quickly in "bad mood", very easily overreacting, crise maximizing for small things.
Then he is shuting down, hiding completely under the cover, he can not communicate anymore, can not be touched It drives me mad He expects only good vibes, even when he arrives one hour too late Only times he is showing up on time is if I book an event, concert or other that starts sharp on time. But he is arriving running last minute What I find very difficult is the insecurity he is building up in me, on what he really does sickly busy with thousands papers home or with other ladies?
Then the feeling of not being respected, not being important to him, given his own self centered attitude. I feel like a mistress of a married man, as he is so "unavailable", including on key dates, being birthdays, valentine, national day or whatever, when I would really count on his presence. He says he is fully honest and faithful For long, I thought he was Asperger, then clumsy and tried to understand and cope But honestly I see him now also as a narcissist, who seems to have fun hurting my feelings and sabotaging all opportunities that I regard as important for building our relationship He is very handsome, has a very attaching side, a boyish candour, that is very charming, he can be impressive in knowledge, but I end up feeling alone and not understood in my needs.
I am backing up now, it is too difficult I would need to be a robot to cope, without feelings and needs, I feel The question is that he knows what I need and he can deliver it as he did to start with, but he choose not to do it then anymore, wanting still to stay in a relationship? What is the point? The brain configuration is different.
No need to expect anything from your ASPIE spouse they really do not need you and prefer to be alone. It's your choice to make a life with them or not. The way to make your life tolerable is have plenty of friends and social activities for yourself do not include him as this is for you. Enjoy the benefits of their positive attributes and find routines for yourself that work in a positive way. Dont be dependent upon your partner for your well being. Self help and a counselor is best.
Stop expecting to be a couple as he can never fulfill that role in a traditional sense. His brain does not work like that as he can not empathize, nor does he have the need to be with you. He enjoys his own company more than others or yours. He does not need affection or physical intimacy. You will have to share that with others You will have to find solace in your time with others and pursue your own interests. The lack of executive functioning skills will drive you nuts so accept you will be the one to conduct all the responsibilities In your lives.
You will do all the home repairs or hire the handyman,you will plan and organize all the meals,you will be in charge of the finances,you will plan all the social activities or holidays. In short he can not think ahead to plan or predict any of these things. He can do jobs he is use to that are in front of him. Anything not planned ahead that he does not know about he will not take part in. He requires down time after any activity and requires time alone. This is the way it is. He is incapable of a partnership.
I dated a man when I was He was smart, had a house and a good job. We went camping, fishing and bike riding together. Two years later, we married. The day after the wedding, ig was like a horror film. He refused to eat at the table with me and chose to eat while playing on the computer. When I asked him to dit with me he got mad and said: what for? I already know what you look like! When I asked if he was mad at me he got even madder and started to scream at me to leave him Alone. I cried myself to sleep each night as he was a truck driver and worked nights. I wondered what I did to upset him!
Why was he so cold and unresponsive emotionally. Do you feel sorry for yourself? Our daughter was born 4 months after we married. He actually left me alone most of the 48 hours at the hospital. I begged for him to help me. He exploded and screamed at me in the hospital room but did wind up cancelling his plans. He started the surent treatment that weekend. I was a new wife and new mother. He ignored me and refused to talk for over a week.
I was so sad and devastated. When he finally talked to me I was so happy that I had no idea that I was being emotionally abused. When both my kids were diagnosed with asperger s and then he as well, it finally made sense. My two kids are more like me than him and they keep me going on the bad days. My faith in God keeps me going. I am not new to this site, but this is my first time sharing my story.
I am so grateful for all the experiences you have all shared. It has pulled me out of a relationship that was emotionally mentally sexually and even physically abusive. I had left many times before, but my addiction to the aspie lured me back. Not this time. I'm 4 months out, and last night I ran into him at a social gathering. My heart dropped, but not from want, from repel. I am a very loving being, who adores her friends kids family, and when I'm in my flow my soul shines bright. Just being in the room with him shuts me down, my soul shrinks into the tiniest little ball inside.
He has left so much damage from being in an intimate relationship with him. They make you feel unseen, worthless and mold us to be their perfect object of companionship while disrespecting and degrading us. There is no love, you are not special in any way, just a thing or object. I could go on about the behaviours of high functioning autism but as you know or have read, there is many shared traits but so unique in your own situation. All I can say is this, we are beings of love and joy, and if we are ever in a situation that dims this in us, then our birthright to experience happiness and life with curiosity and joy will burn out.
It is very hard to leave, and the real work is after you gone, trying to heal so many deep wounds. But life is so short, and I choose to live. Because it truly is a gift and we should live it to our fullest. I believe I've gone through this extremely painful time to awaken and grow and finally shine in this beautiful world. I am grateful for my aspie, he really is a lovely man and some memories are good, but it is recovering from his Disfunctional way of relationship that grew an even more beautiful woman than he first met.
And I believe I will be loved by a man exactly the way I love. Please know it will get better day by day if we focus on self love. And we will need lots of it for giving all our love to them with nothing in return. So much love and respect to all those who have shared, your stories heal the hearts of those of us who are in the crazy depths of despair, trying to get out. I've been married 32 years. My husband has been to many doctors a d counselors and psychiatrists over the years, nobody caught it. It has been a lonely marriage on the emotional and physical side of things, but what a kind, gentle and caring man.
I just came back from a 30 camping trip with my dog. I was the one to suggest my husband be tested, he has "Aspergers". I took the trip because our 24 year old daughter has been dating a guy first real boyfriend that we would rather she didn't. I won't go into detail. They have been in counseling for three months and our daughter has actually got worse in her attitude and thinking.
I have never suspected she was on the spectrum, but at am, in a tent, in the woods of Tennesee, a video started playing off youtube, "22 signs you have Aspergers " I had cried out to God to help me help our daughter, and He brought it to me in a YouTube video at 3am. I came home five days later, had a long talk with my husband and we met our daughter at the park because she loves nature and I told her what had happened and what I suspected. She was silent for a ling time while I explained the different things that seemed to line up. She ended up walking off but then coming around.
It's taken only a couple days, but we have had the most wonderful conversations and the daughter that I "thought" I knew better than anyone is a stranger in a lot of ways, but I feel like I'm finally seeing the real woman. I asked her yesterday, what percentage do you believe you have ASD? So, we have some things to work thru and allow her to find out who she is, but it's going to be fine. She's a lovely young woman that we are very proud of. So talented in music, and just a kind person. Best wishes to you all. We never lived together, thank God. Then, boom!
Thank you for all your helpful testimonials. Before he came to our company a few years ago he has never had any official employment, he wasn't even registered as unemployed. His parents hid him at home for decades! He didn't even receive social security or health insurance just because he hadn't signed up for it…………… He gets very defensive and nervous when asked about his private life I guess there is none besides his parents ………….
Even our supervisor talked to him about his irritating behaviour know-it-all, finishes everybody's sentences, high level of arrogance, has no executive functioning, very little common sense, bad personal hygiene, freaks out over minor incidences everyday-stuff , gets nervous and agitated easily etc. Still he claims that everything is okay…………… In my country you are considered legally disabled with Asperger's but he refuses to get any help. I have to share an office with him and it sucks the life out of me, yet everybody who has to work with him once in a while claims that he is "so nice" I told the supervisor I want to be transferred to another room.
I really hope this will happen soon. Otherwise I will look for another job……….. Blessings to you all! All along 40 years , I thought it was at least partly my fault for this loveless lonely sham of a marriage. He is a coward; cannot stand up for himself so forget ever sticking up for me ; very immature in my opinion; selfish……………. He had an older sister who lorded over him, a brother who was VERY autistic but again never received any help he died last year. People all said how nice he was but he almost killed my spouse when they were younger.
He managed to get his temper under some control and with sibling help, lived alone in a trailer court and had a job. Never married but into pornography. I threw out my spouse's little bit he picked up when in the army……………Spouse is good provider, NOT verbally abusive, but NEVER says any compliments, stopped being nice to me with flowers, etc. I've always defended him and made excuses for him……………….. I'm just very sad because my son never felt he had a dad. He suffers from that. He is very NT. Married someone great. My daughter has undiagnosed Asperger's.
I always related to my son but found it difficult to understand my daughter. Sadly, she suffers from depression and high anxiety……………You can't fix Asperger's, but she is conscious of it because I've told her. I feel they have to have the "official" diagnosis to really believe it. They don't really want to "listen" to me, so it's been an added hurt…………. I understand about the Cassandra phenomenon and not being believed. I haven't been able to say all this stuff to anyone.
I tried counseling, but it doesn't quite seem to be helping me. I feel it's suicide, divorce, or just sticking it out. That's actually where I'm at. Moved to the extra bedroom. We haven't had sex for decades. He was like an animal when we were first married and I was the "good wife. I would like to say thank you for this website its positive comments have saved me feeling like I am on the edge of insanity………….
I met my husband 7 years ago. Fast forward to the present date and I realise now, that I was his obsession. For the last two years he has left me at times feeling suicidal. The worst being when we lost a baby and he showed more interest in candy crush and a local band than my emotional distress. I came home and cried and cried and he asked if I wanted a cup of tea and then processed to go back on his computer…………. I have fought like a tigress to have the husband who once pretended to love me…………….
- Beauty is Nowhere: Ethical Issues in Art and Design (Critical Voices in Art, Theory and Culture);
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With the help of this website, I have come to realise that he never was that person. He has sent me to the brink of insanity, I have had a nervous breakdown and been diagnosed with PTSD…………which is really OTRS in this case; since losing the baby and his subsequent treatment of me. I have drunk heavily, medicated myself with prescription drugs, to find some solace or make sense of his behaviour towards me……………… He fails to recognise if I am wearing a nice dress, have nice nails or hair, whether the dinner I have cooked is healthy and tasty.
He has only scripted interest such do you want tea or coffee; do you have a meeting this evening? How was work? He has numerous Facebook, Instagram and twitter accounts. When challenged he said it was to raise business profiles and networking, but that should be something you share with your wife surely? Then I found out he had 7 google plus accounts all in different names and the only people liking his posts was himself………. At times I feel scared that this man is a total stranger to me and I am unsure what he will do next.
I feel humiliated by the way he has deceived me and treated me. The impact on my mental health, my children and my mother who worry constantly about me is something he is responsible for. A human being needs interaction, communication, empathy and partnership. In a nut shell no. He knows right from wrong. He knows he hurts me; I feel he has sociopathic tendencies and narcissism…………….
The black hole he has put me in has two endings, I either climb out and rebuild myself from years of emotional abuse and leave or I just end my life. I used to be happy, social, have my own money and vivacious. I was always laughing, dancing and singing. I have a high-powered career and I refuse to let him take from me the qualities I was raised with.
I am learning to re-build my self-respect, confidence and self-esteem. From my experience they suck the very core from you. I find so much of my own experience here…………….. I am sick, have an auto-immunity based degenerative joint disorder thanks to childhood trauma but most certainly the last twelve years kicked it in full board. It's been isolating as no one in my once-quite-large community believes me. He took full control of the money. I had to leave my home and community built over 25 years to survive in a lesser priced city, starting from scratch with nothing.
I still feel lucky to be out……………….. He hasn't given one iota of thought to the damage caused. There was never an apology for the violence throughout or at the end. It was verbal with some lunges and hands raised but a LOT of verbal abuse. This site puts it perfectly. That abuse sticks and cements itself in your memory and nervous system for quite some time……………………. My question is if there are any recovery recommendations you can suggest to get past the total lack of closure. The feeling of unfairness of all of this, that he enjoys love immediately, seemingly rewarded for abusing someone so horrible, while I live in a city where I don't know anyone working paycheck to paycheck to rebuild leaves me feeling utterly broken and trying to find a reason to keep moving forward……………… Empathy disorders will soon destroy humanity.
The hidden aspect of the NT experience is inexcusable…………….. Thank you for your site. Thank you so much for taking the time to tell OUR stories. They walk away free of any illness, pain, remorse or regret. NT's are riddled with medical issues, energy depletion and emotional trauma taking years to heal if they heal at all. Something is hugely uneven and unfair about this arrangement……………….. The lack of macro empathy from ASD lobbies is just a larger version of the issues I experienced at home.
Ignored, disregarded, and isolated. Please keep turning up the volume of our voices, and share our stories. We deserve just as much protection as the autism community. What better person to choose to bridge the divide felt by a person with ASD than to choose someone who has a link to the emotional world. I recently ended a 5. I did all the cooking and housework. When there was something to carry or move, I did it.
He opened perhaps 3 doors for me in 6 years. I became his therapist, listening to lengthy accounts of work and lunch, trying to soothe him from the critiques of his parents and associates. Sometimes I tried to get a quick phrase in, just to not feel invisible. I became an interjector, a blurter out of the shortest phrases possible before his ears closed. He rarely expended an effort on me that didn't involve his special interests, shopping and driving. He listened to me when he made shopping lists. If I wanted to go for a walk in nature, we might drive for two hours, walk for ten minutes, then drive back for two more hours.
He was unaffectionate and never said a single endearment to me. My own endearments and nurturing of him were irrelevant toward fostering a bond; his capacity for that is absent…………………Three years into it he referred to himself as single. I covered for him. Once I had a severe headache and told him I couldn't lift my head off the pillow, and that I may have had a stroke. He said "Do you want a tablet?
My personality became stifled and corroded………………….. When it hit me — Aha, ASD - he took offense. His mind blindness and disinclination to give of himself destroyed the relationship, but my need now to relocate, start over, and try to recover from convulsive waves of confusion, anxiety, and long term lack of belonging are at my own expense………………. No one should be lured into a damaging relationship. If only there were some sort of litmus test or friendly questionnaire which dates could ask of each other to determine whether one of them is ASD, it could prevent so much suffering!
I have been with my husband for 19years and knew he was different but didn't realise that he had high functioning AS until his daughter was diagnosed about 4 years ago. I always thought she was strange and that explained why. I still didn't realise that my husband had AS until he mentioned that maybe he had it. Nothing was ever done about it and we just sailed along for the next few years. Our sex life was not very satisfying and a couple of years ago we stopped intimacy. It was not until a few months ago, just after Christmas he told me he was leaving me to pursue a relationship with this woman that he had known for a year younger of course.
He said she was his intellectual equal. That hurt.
- How to Spot and Deal With Passive-Aggressive People | Psychology Today;
- Soil in the Environment: Crucible of Terrestrial Life.
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- The Gate (New York Review Books Classics);
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Since then I have researched As and realised all the time I was exhausting myself trying to get emotional reactions from my husband I was flogging a dead horse. What it has helped me with is to understand that I did nothing wrong. It is liberating to know that. He has taken all his problems with him and someone else has to deal with them. I feel free even though I still feel hurt and betrayed I realise that whether or not they can help it AS people are very selfish. Thank you all for sharing your experiences!
I feel like I'm not all alone in this anymore. I have been in a long distance relationship with a man who has Asperger's for the past 2 and half years. I've tried to end the relationship several times over the past year but the feelings of sympathy I have for him and the pressure his family puts on me to stay with him have drawn me back into the relationship over and over again. He is the most selfish, uncaring although he once told me that even though he comes across as being cold blooded he's actually a softie at heart..
What a liar. There is nothing soft or caring about him. He only cares about his needs and what's going to be convenient for him that's it. From the very beginning I felt like something was amiss but I couldn't figure out exactly what it was and chalked a lot of our communication problems up to the fact that we were in a long distance relationship. I was recently venting to one of my co-workers about how sad and lonely I have been and continue to be in this relationship and she suggested that it sounds like he has Asperger's.
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I work with children and many of them are autistic so I don't know why I didn't see these signs in him? One thing that threw me off is that he is very successful in his sales career. He functions well with his job, but of course it's because he makes money from his clients so again there's something in it directly for him. I have had a long, painful struggle coming to terms with the reality that the man I feel in love with doesn't exist.
I'm choosing to leave this relationship before uprooting my life, leaving my family and my job that I love here and moving to another state to be with him. However I still have a broken heart, I still care about and feel sorry for him. So there is still a struggle. I am trying to accept the fact that I am going to feel just as alone if I am married to him as I do being miles away from him. Thank you all again for sharing your experiences. If I can help even one person as you all sharing your experiences have helped me then it makes my struggles and pain worth it.
My mother was the first to suggest that my husband had autism. My husband is the most selfish, inconsiderate person that ever was. We have separated and he provides me with no financial support for our daughter. When we were married, he had no clue about what was appropriate in a marriage. He obsessively keeps track of my social media accounts and read every exchange between myself and other people.
Yet everything he does is very secretive. I know absolutely nothing about his life. My husband withdrew affection and acted progressively more distant after our daughter was born. He went from doting on me and giving me his undivided attention to being emotionally unavailable and physically gone. He left our family home every opportunity he got. Sometimes even sitting in his car alone for hours after work making phone calls rather than coming inside. He made me feel so desperately lonely in our marriage. I want people who are living with an autistic person to know that autistic people lack empathy, inability to consider feelings of others, and are compulsive liars.
You might settle for these unhealthy relationships for whatever reason, but do not let ANYONE convince you that what you are experiencing is not real or somehow your fault. I would suggest you read everything you can on narcissists and listen to experts on utube who talk about narcissistic abuse.
Perhaps in the future, there will be more understanding about autism and future generations with this developmental disorder can be helped to a degree. Also, it is important for future generations of autistic people to learn to be honest about their condition so a neurotypical can make a decision about their degree of involvement with autistic individuals.
Pretending something does not exist does not make it go away! This site has been so helpful. I actually look at it daily to find out what others have experienced. Why do Aspie's go to the trouble of seeking out "love and relationship" when clearly they are unable to sustain it? I am Neither of us has been married.
I have one adult child. I spent some nights in his home, but never lived with him. In the beginning he seemed like he really wanted intercourse. He bragged about his sexual prowess as a younger man. Each time he wanted to go out of town and spend the night, it ended in disaster and hurt feelings.
This last time, he ended the "relationship. He is not aware of his. It's always my fault. He has been unable to accept that I am more worldly than he and equally as intelligent, albeit in different subject areas. He seems to resent me when he's "not the smartest person in the room. My head was often "swimming. Not once has he recognized that I have been loving, patient, gracious, kind, generous, and thoughtful. Like the many who wrote about "in the beginning" he was gentle, kind, and affectionate. Like all the others, when the mask falls off, I have been blindsided, waiting, I suppose, for the one I love to return.
How does one heal when the person you love doesn't exist? I thought I was alone in my thinking that sometimes I just want to die and how for the past 46 years I have been emotionally abused by my husband who has Asperger's Thankyou to you all in making me feel at least human and that it is not just me. There has always been a lot of information on how to support someone with autism but not any kind of understanding for the rest of their family or their main carer.
Mine has been wrecked after all these years; a bit late now to start again. We are a gay couple. I have lived with my partner for 16 years. I mean it. I think about dying and suicide frequently. He is and always has been difficult. I told myself for ages, that really, he means well and is a good person. Walking on egg shells is a term used a lot. Timing is a huge issue with him. He specifies what time things must happen.
If anything goes over time, the world will end! When my Father was dying in hospital, upon visiting and on arrival, I was informed by my partner we had to leave by a certain time. When sitting with my Father, my partner sat flicking loudly through magazines, huffing and puffing and looking at his watch. If I left , he would fall apart He LOVES his career he is quite successful-- due in large part to the team of people around him who also get the life sucked out of them I live with an emotional hangover each and every day-- I am physically exhausted.
Back against the wall, I gave up my career to give my kids a fighting chance in this world. I had too many missed work days running to the school to assist when one of the kids had a meltdown Married to ASD and raising kids just like him is a prison sentenceHe really is another child to me. He doesn't see the wake of emotional destruction he leaves in his path He has no understanding of his rude behavior and arrogance.
He does not understand how horrible his behavior is towards me. He is horrible to our kids. He thinks they are rude, have no filter, obnoxious, exhausting, and at times unlovable Wow husband sound like anyone else living in this house!?!?!? My new "career" includes having no life and catering to the mental health needs of my family. Other daily chores include damage control due to all of the insults that pour out of his mouth for which he is completely clueless.
Let's not forget the fact that if it is NOT a preferred activity-- he wants nothing to do with it He tells me that I am the issue in this marriage because I have turned into a total bitch, I am no fun, I am not fun to be around. Gee, do you think I might be salty because I am exhausted, anxious, and pissed because the one ride I get in this life is ruined because of my own poor choice in a mate?? I really am pissed at myself because I was fooled by his "normal" behavior before we got married.
I often wonder if I am being punished for something I did as a child is HE my punishment?? I MISS feeling like me. I miss being happy. I miss sleep. I miss my career. I miss having friends. I miss feeling loved. I miss feeling an emotional connection to a partner. I miss feeling like I matter. Hell, I miss sex that isn't completely selfish.
Thank goodness I have the best dog in the world that dog loves me unconditionally. I have recently split from my husband after over 20 years. I spent years wishing we could have a 'normal' family where two people work together as a team, and wondering why in 20 years my husband never once took the children out for the morning.
I was never able to have a straight forward conversation. Instead we danced around from subject to subject as my husband avoided the simple issue I wanted to discuss. If I asked a second time he got angry. There was never a commitment to any plans. I was told that separation was wrong, and that God put us together, so we had to stay together. Now we have split he lives we my brother and our eldest son. Both my son and my brother see him as the victim he acts as, and blame me for everything. He has split our own family, and split my family too because I did not do what he wanted.
I could have written these testimonials, esp. Women are bullied into keeping quiet about the realities of living with a man on the autism spectrum. My husband's behavior changed on our wedding day. I was so shocked by his constant lying, verbal and physical abuse, I thought he had had a stroke or something. I insisted we go to a specialist university to have him tested as well as multiple therapists.
He played the victim and found it amusing he could fool these "professionals". The so called "expert" at the university would not allow me to use the word autism, but got up in my face and started yelling axis numbers from the DSM at me This entire ordeal has seriously traumatised me. For a long time, I had nightmares about the psychologist from the university who I now know is on the spectrum. I am slowly coming out of my fog, but I am 65, sold my home, and gave up a job with good benefits.
I have become very distrustful of people. There is so little emotional and psychological help for NTs partners it just seems unfair. None of them tell her about their 'gibberish' when manic, the constant cussing out their spouse, their meltdowns. None of them tell her about their faults, miraculously believing they have none. I can't thank you enough for this wonderful validating site. The real painful truth about what we NT partners suffer has been stamped on and ignored for too long. We have been bullied into silence by the autistic advocates who vehemently deny their bad behaviours and instead blame society and everyone but themselves and totally deny the severe intolerable suffering inflicted on the NT.
It's time our voices were heard! Thank you again. Helped me to see how we differed and how it wasn't my fault why the relationship didn't work out. That means they still want me to be selectively connecting in this relationship. There's huge irony in this since there is no connecting with them at all in any meaningful way in a marriage, ever. Disconnecting by physically leaving is the only way. If one has to remain for economic, age or other reasons, then completely disconnecting emotionally is the only alternative.
By definition, AS individuals do not do relationships well……………The advice offered to the couple is for the NT to completely change their way of operating in a social world and relationships, to accommodate the deficits of ASD, adding to the trauma and abuse of the neurotypical family members. This could be interpreted by NT individuals seeking support and assistance, as mal-practice and unethical by ignoring their input and experiences regarding their personal family life…………There have been no short term or longitudinal studies to prove NT-ASD couples counselling does effectively work, and is maintainable over time.
Anecdotal evidence concludes that NT-ASD couples counselling has only a temporary effect on the marriage, and it quickly reverts to the previous difficulties. The person with ASD is unable to maintain the effort required. Expecting ASD individuals to do what goes against their brain wiring can be cruel and abusive to them and the way they view life……………. Gender bias is another enormous problem in getting efficient help for Neurotypical spouses from professionals.
Many professionals treat NT females as neurotic and demanding, not knowing their own mind and having no common sense. The person who has AS AS is a soul-breaking disability for people around them. I have been married to my husband almost 30 years. I was widowed with three small boys when I met this man six months later. Six weeks later we were married. He was so helpful and kind at first. I remember thanking God for giving me a new best friend………The minute I said "I do" everything changed. He was in the military and he let me know that his job came first.
He would yell at me that I wasn't to ask him for anything or expect anything from him. I should continue to take care of the house and kids and when he was home, I was to consider that a bonus………He wasn't deployed or sent anywhere - it was just regular work hours. If I waited up for him to come home, I got screamed at because he assumed I would expect him to help with the kids the next day.
I was so confused. I stayed up because I was a newlywed and I loved him………Physical violence came next and I was so ashamed. I kept thinking he just didn't understand what marriage was supposed to be…………Eighteen years into this travesty of a marriage where there was no intimacy unless he initiated it maybe 5 times a year , he spent a night in jail for slapping me.
We went to a no-nonsense counselor and reconciled. That lasted only a few months. Him screaming at me and threatening me got worse. By this time, he had ruined my credit by betraying my trust. I allowed property to be put in my name and he promised to make the payments. When things got tough, he made the decision to stop paying the mortgages and did not tell me until foreclosure was the only choice…………People close to me ask why I don't leave, but this is MY home and I don't have the money or credit to go anywhere.
We now have separate rooms, but I feel like I'm living with a person who is just waiting for me to fail………….. He has always been the kind of man to hurt me more when I am already weak or struggling. It's often a nightmare, but I do have faith in God and my kids including the two girls we had together are out of the house and in healthy relationships…………. I never planned to be in my 50s and living like this with a man who has no respect for me.
I got my master's degree 13 years ago and he never acknowledged it - nothing. I was incredibly hurt after I celebrated his accomplishments and birthdays over the years. In the letter, dated March 24, , Hughes tells Mrs. Hughes could hardly refuse. One of the unpleasant but necessary conditions imposed on anyone writing about Sylvia Plath is a hardening of the heart against Ted Hughes. A number of writers have, in fact, left unfinished manuscripts.
In Mrs. Plath, Ted Hughes, and Olwyn Hughes journalism found, and continues to find, three exceptionally alluring targets for its sadism and reductionism. Like all the other players at the table, I have felt anxious and oppressed by the game. The air in the room is bad; it is the same air that has been breathed there for many years. The windows are grimy and jammed shut. Through a door one sees an open coffin surrounded by candles. A small old woman sits in a straight-backed chair reading a manual of stenography. A very tall man with graying hair, dressed in black, comes through the doorway, having to duck his head, and stands watching the players.
The door to the street suddenly opens, and a tall woman bursts in. She looks after him, then gives the card table a malevolent little shove, so that drinks spill and cards scatter, and leaves, slamming the door. I look at my cards and call the bet. London itself had a hushed, emptied-out feeling. The Gulf War had begun a few weeks earlier; terrorism was feared, and travel had halted—my hotel was three-quarters empty.
The snow began just after Christmas and would not let up. By New Year the whole country had ground to a halt. The trains froze on the tracks, the abandoned trucks froze on the roads. The power stations, overloaded by million upon pathetic million of hopeless electric fires, broke down continually; not that the fires mattered, since the electricians were mostly out on strike.checkout.midtrans.com/el-toboso-mujer-soltera-busca.php
Water pipes froze solid; for a bath you had to scheme and cajole those rare friends with centrally heated houses, who became rarer and less friendly as the weeks dragged on. Doing the dishes became a major operation. The gastric rumble of water in outdated plumbing was sweeter than the sound of mandolins. Weight for weight, plumbers were as expensive as smoked salmon and harder to find. The gas failed and Sunday roasts were raw.
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The lights failed and candles, of course, were unobtainable. Nerves failed and marriages crumbled. Finally, the heart failed. It seemed the cold would never end. Nag, nag, nag. I had sat for hours in an unheated train—grounded at a local station because the doors had frozen shut—and observed my fellow-passengers, who sat docile and expressionless, incurious about their fate, in a kind of exaltation of uncomplaining discomfort.
She is 28 and very startlingly beautiful with amber-gold hair and eyes. I cooked a big roast beef dinner, with red wine and strawberries and cream. She reminds me of a changeling, somehow, who will never get old. She is, however, quite selfish and squanders money on herself continually in extravagances of clothes and cigarettes, while she still owes Ted 50 pounds.
But in spite of this, I do like her. There is something of the schoolgirl about her, an atmosphere of daring and disobedience, a hint of bohemianism. The hair is still amber-gold; the face is handsome and cared for. At the same time, there is something forbidding and imposing about her. She simply pours out anger at and contempt for the people she has had to deal with in her position as literary agent to the Plath estate.
She is like the principal of a school or the warden of a prison: students or inmates come and go, while she remains. A rowdy new class of freshmen was about to arrive. I had only to touch the sore spot to send her into an aria of derision whose first notes I had heard a few months earlier, and which I would continue to hear throughout our acquaintance. Sylvia was an intellectual—Anne is not. I had to nanny her along.
She wasted a year of my life. She did some good things; there are one or two chapters that are quite nice. I was misled by her sober demeanor and her nice tweeds and the fact that she taught.
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She got her wrong. She was always imagining she was this sweet emotional girl. She kept one dancing about with her silly little notes. I was exasperated by this rubbish. I wanted the facts to be on record. People would have known where they stood. This way, they are suspicious. They feel something is being hidden from them and put over on them. People have this idea that Ted watches over everything. Ted is a very sweet-natured man. A very nice guy. Do you know this woman? The conversation had been brief.
If things went well—if the difficulties were ironed out and the book went uneventfully to press—she would have nothing to speak to a journalist about. If things did not go well, she would have a great deal to talk about. Evidently, things had not gone well: I had an appointment to meet Rose. The waiter started clearing the table, and Olwyn reached into her handbag and gave me a sheet of paper. It was the letter to me that she had mentioned dating the previous day; she had decided to hand it to me rather than mail it. The Hughes passage was the one that interested me most.
It read:. Critics established the right to say whatever they pleased about the dead. It is an absolute power, and the corruption that comes with it, very often, is an atrophy of the moral imagination. They move onto the living because they can no longer feel the difference between the living and the dead. They extend over the living that licence to say whatever they please, to ransack their psyche and reinvent them however they please. They stand in front of classes and present this performance as exemplary civilised activity—this utter insensitivity towards other living human beings.
Students see the easy power and are enthralled, and begin to outdo their teachers. For a person to be corrupted in that way is to be genuinely corrupted.
Olwyn lit another cigarette, and I ventured a question to which I felt I already knew the answer. I was full of my own life in those days. Because Olwyn lived and worked in Paris during the six years of the Plath-Hughes marriage two of them spent in America and four in England , she and Plath were brought together, all told, only five or six times.
One cannot just blurt out—as Dido and Olwyn blurt out—how awful X is. The reaction was immediate. To these questions Sylvia made no reply but kept up her unnerving stare. Olwyn went to bed later, feeling very contrite. She was wakened at dawn by the departure of her brother and his family. But here dumbness is perceived as Lear perceives it in Cordelia as aggression. It was, I guess, an exasperated telling off. She never said a word, but mutely glared.
Looking back, it seems quite aggressive of her to have left at dawn the next day. They are like the damned, who can never make amends, who have no prospect of grace. Plath had refused to engage with Olwyn during her life, and now, in death, was compounding the injury by talking about her behind her back. Olwyn, understandably, found this intolerable. In each, Plath is rendered as a silent, powerful, uncanny antagonist, whose aggression leaves Olwyn stunned and cowed and baffled. The warily silent Hughes has protected his secrets better than his sister has: no one can use his words against him.
But everyone can—and does—speculate about his motives. The dead, however, lose all rights from the very first second of death. No law protects them any longer from slander, their privacy has ceased to be private; not even the letters written to them by their loved ones, not even the family album left to them by their mothers, nothing, nothing belongs to them any longer.
The issue between the Hugheses and the public hostile to them is whether or not the Hugheses are dead. They have eaten the pomegranate seeds that tie them to the underworld. The Poet Laureate is no longer quite mortal. He has ascended to the pantheon of the belaurelled dead. He has also descended into the cesspool from which sensationalist journalism draws its lurid narratives about celebrities.
But a paradox hedges the struggle between the Plath advocates and the Hugheses. They want to restore to Plath the rights she lost when she died. They want to wrest from Hughes the power over her literary remains which he acquired when she died intestate. They want to remove the gag of censorship from her journals and letters. But by so doing, by restoring Plath to the status of the living, they simply achieve a substitution: they send the Hugheses and Mrs. Olwyn and I left the dark, warm restaurant for the bitterly cold street. We walked what seemed like a long way, having to pick our path slowly through the hardened snow.
We had reached the pleasant neighborhood of Primrose Hill and had crossed a square that Olwyn identified as Chalcot Square, where Plath and Hughes had lived between February of and the summer of She pointed out a handsome five-story row house where they had had a tiny apartment on the fourth floor. The apartment had been found by Dido Merwin; she and William Merwin, who lived in the neighborhood, had become the helpful—probably too helpful—older friends of Hughes and Plath.
The Merwins had already lent Plath and Hughes furniture from their attic. But if the Hugheses elected to go splurging on a posh cooker, refrigerator, and bed, what the hell? Never mind if it made no sense to a couple of flea-marketeers like Bill and me. Interestingly, this was never a theme for Plath. She occasionally permitted herself a few words to her mother or to American friends about the uncleanliness and dismalness of English kitchens and bathrooms, but she seemed determined to accept the discomforts of her adopted country with good grace.
After the separation from Hughes, there was nothing keeping her in England, but she never considered returning to America. Here her wicked wit could flourish and her writing could break out of the caul of obedient mannerism that encased its early examples. When Plath arrived in England on a Fulbright to Cambridge, in the fall of , the accent was still strong.
This charming American neatness and freshness is what I chiefly recall about her physical person. Plath is no longer blond the earlier blondness had been artificial and no longer conspicuously clean. Alvarez writes:. Her hair, which she usually wore in a tight, schoolmistressy bun, was loose. It hung straight to her waist like a tent, giving her pale face and gaunt figure a curiously desolate, rapt air, like a priestess emptied out by the rites of her cult.
Another index to the transformation may be found in two recordings of poetry readings that Plath made—one in Massachusetts in , and the other in London in late , for the BBC. In the Massachusetts recording, she reads in a young, slightly declamatory voice, with a Boston accent.
The reading is pleasant, a little dull. The BBC recording is extraordinary; no one who hears it can fail to be jolted by it. Elizabeth Hardwick has written a definitive description of this rare document:. I have never before learned anything from a poetic reading, unless the clothes, the beard, the girls, the poor or good condition of the poet can be considered a kind of knowledge.
It was not anything like I could have imagined. Not a trace of the modest, retreating, humorous Worcester, Massachusetts, of Elizabeth Bishop; nothing of the swallowed plain Pennsylvania of Marianne Moore. Poor recessive Massachusetts had been erased. The idea of death far away from home has a special pathos; embedded in it is the fantasy that the foreign place contributed to the death, perhaps was even the cause of it. Far away from home, she died. She left it abjectly. As Alvarez remembered her from his last visit to her flat and imagined her on the eve of her death, she was a pathetic, diminished figure.
We choose the dead because of our tie to them, our identification with them. Their helplessness, passivity, vulnerability is our own. We all yearn toward the state of inanition, the condition of harmlessness, where we are perforce lovable and fragile. It is only by a great effort that we rouse ourselves to act, to fight, to struggle, to be heard above the wind, to crush flowers as we walk.
To behave like live people. The contest between Plath and Hughes invokes the contest between the two principles that hedge human existence. Death always remains interesting, pulls us, draws us. As sleep is necessary to our physiology, so depression seems necessary to our psychic economy. In some secret way, Thanatos nourishes Eros as well as opposes it. The two principles work in covert concert; though in most of us Eros dominates, in none of us is Thanatos completely subdued. Suicide thus engages with both the death-hating and the death-loving parts of us: on some level, perhaps, we may envy the suicide even as we pity him.
It has frequently been asked whether the poetry of Plath would have so aroused the attention of the world if Plath had not killed herself. I would agree with those who say no. The death-ridden poems move us and electrify us because of our knowledge of what happened. Alvarez has observed that the late poems read as if they were written posthumously, but they do so only because a death actually took place.
When Plath is talking about the death wish, she knows what she is talking about. Olwyn and I finally reached the house on Fitzroy Road where Plath killed herself. Plath had rented the second-and-third-floor duplex, and lived there a bare two months, alone with her children. The period of the breakup of the Plath-Hughes marriage is the radioactive center of the Plath biographical enterprise. Here is lodged the precious ore that the biographers struggle to wrest from the Hugheses. Sigmund, who lived in North Devon and saw more of Plath than Roche did, has contributed a famous set piece:.
Then suddenly, late one evening, Sylvia arrived with Nick in his carry cot, and the change in her was appalling. My milk has gone. At last she told me that Ted was in love with another woman, that she knew Assia and was terrified of her. What could I do? I have never felt so inadequate in my life. She cursed and mocked him for his weakness, and she called him a traitor. There is no reason to doubt the bare truth of these reminiscences. As we know from the crazed letters, Plath said all kinds of things about Hughes in those days. And, as we all know from our own brushes with sexual jealousy, being crazed is the chief symptom of the malady.
But what few of us have experienced during the progress of the illness is a surge of creativity, empowering us to do work that surpasses everything we have done before, work that seems to be doing itself. She was taking sleeping pills, and when they wore off, at about five in the morning, she would get up and write until the children awoke. Now that my domestic life, until I get a permanent live-in girl, is chaos, I am living like a Spartan, writing through huge fevers and producing free stuff I had locked in me for years. I feel astounded and very lucky.
I kept telling myself I was the sort that could only write when peaceful at heart, but that is not so, the muse has come to live here, now Ted has gone. I am writing the best poems of my life; they will make my name. I am writing from London, so happy I can hardly speak. I think I have found a place. Just right unfurnished , on two floors, with three bedrooms upstairs, lounge, kitchen and bath downstairs and a balcony garden! Flew to the agents—hundreds of people ahead of me, I thought, as always.
It seems I have a chance! And guess what, it is W. And in the district of my old doctors and in the street [where] I would want to buy a house if I ever had a smash-hit novel. This was the house that Olwyn and I now stood before. It had an air of prosperity and well-being. In an ordinary voice, as Lanzmann questions him in an equally ordinary voice, the survivor tells of horrors that defy belief. The film is poised on the tension between time and history.
Time heals all wounds, smooths, cleanses, obliterates; history keeps the wound open, picks at it, makes it raw and bleeding. In his film, Lanzmann makes the point over and over again. In Tel Aviv, he interviews a barber who survived Treblinka. Business as usual. Poets and novelists and playwrights make themselves, against terrible resistances, give over what the rest of us keep safely locked within our hearts. There are critics who condemn Plath for appropriating the Holocaust for private purposes.
Familiarity with the hellish subject must be earned, not presupposed. Do any of us have license to locate our personal disasters, raw as these may be, in Auschwitz? We praise her those of us who do not condemn or dismiss her , but then we draw back. We retract some of our praise. Like the life, the work is full of threatening silences.
It is beautiful and severe and very cold. Plath never asks for our sympathy; she would not stoop to it. And yet what was exacted from Plath was so far beyond what was expected of the gushing girl with the Samsonite luggage that we must all agree on the singularity of the achievement. This is the first part of this article. Click here to read Part II. He parts the curtain and permits us a glimpse of himself and Plath in the studio: [It] was beautiful in its crumbling way, but uncomfortable; there was nothing to lounge on—only spidery Windsor chairs and a couple of rugs on the blood-red uncarpeted lino.
Olwyn wrote: Your letter of 3 December came to me—and I thought a few points listed below could be useful to your proposed article. In a letter to the publisher she wrote: Practically every character in The Bell Jar represents someone—often in caricature—whom Sylvia loved; each person had given freely of time, thought, affection, and, in one case, financial help during those agonizing six months of breakdown in He makes his first appearance in a letter of March 3, Met, by the way, a brilliant ex-Cambridge poet at the wild St.
On April 17th, she writes: The most shattering thing is that in the last two months I have fallen terribly in love, which can only lead to great hurt. April 19th: I shall tell you now about something most miraculous and thundering and terrifying and wish you to think on it and share some of it. April 29th: Ted is incredible, mother.
His humor is the salt of the earth. May 3rd: I feel that all my life, all my pain and work has been for this one thing. Ted has written many virile, deep banging poems. Then: That big, dark, hunky boy, the only one there huge enough for me, who had been hunching around over women, and whose name I had asked the minute I had come into the room, but no one told me, came over and was looking hard in my eyes and it was Ted Hughes.
Hughes takes Plath to a back room, and bang the door was shut and he was sloshing brandy into a glass and I was sloshing it at the place where my mouth was when I last knew about it. It read: Critics established the right to say whatever they pleased about the dead. Alvarez writes: Her hair, which she usually wore in a tight, schoolmistressy bun, was loose. Elizabeth Hardwick has written a definitive description of this rare document: I have never before learned anything from a poetic reading, unless the clothes, the beard, the girls, the poor or good condition of the poet can be considered a kind of knowledge.
Death was more interesting to him. Life could not get his attention. Like carpenters they want to know which tools. They never ask why build. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. We know we are in the presence of a master builder. Sigmund, who lived in North Devon and saw more of Plath than Roche did, has contributed a famous set piece: Then suddenly, late one evening, Sylvia arrived with Nick in his carry cot, and the change in her was appalling. And the language obscene An engine, an engine Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew.
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